A Dangerous Situation
by Hermione7931
Summary: This dangerous situation includes both of the following: unfortunate circumstances that lead to others, and pesky matchmakers. Or at least, that's what Hermione and Draco thought.
1. Chapter 1

"Albus?" Professor McGonagall called out as she entered the headmaster's office. Boxes were stacked haphazardly all over the room, with one of the particularly heavy-looking boxes in the corner about to fall down.

Rushing over, she steadied it and the headmaster absentmindedly emerged from under his desk.

"Why, hello, Minerva! Care for a lemon drop?"

She sighed and sank into an unoccupied chair. "Albus, you and I are both too tired to be craving candy. With all that happened...the death of the Dark Lord, the rounding up and imprisonment of all the Death Eaters...well, let's just say candy's the last thing on my mind."

The headmaster shrugged carelessly and popped it into his own mouth. _He_ wasn't going to waste a perfectly good lemon drop.

"I called you here today because I have decided to implement a new rule at Hogwarts. One that will affect the entire student body and will no doubt cause much controversy in the Wizarding World."

"What?" Unable to help herself, the professor leaned forward and popped a lemon drop in her mouth. "Nothing could be as bad as what Dolores Umbridge did at this school."

Dumbledore paused and frowned in concentration. His face wrinkled and he absentmindedly began to tug at his beard. Professor McGonagall doubted that he noticed."That is debateable. You see, I have decided to pair houses together for classes. Traditionally, the Gryffindors and the Ravenclaws are the conventional pairing choice while Slytherins are most commonly paired with Hufflepuffs."

Pausing to savour his candy, he closed his eyes for a moment, causing the professor to fidget in impatience. "This year, I want to pair the Gryffindors with the Slytherins and the Ravenclaws with the Hufflepuffs. I know that Gryffindors and Slytherins haven't gotten along as much in the past, but I'm determined to remedy that."

Professor McGonagall snorted indelicately. "That could possibly be the biggest understatement of the year. Do you have any idea how many detentions I've had to hand out to errant Gryffindors and Slytherins that were arguing in the hallway? Unbelieveable." She shook her head disapprovingly.

"The worst is yet to come," Dumbledore announced, causing the professor to sigh. "I have decided to..." He trailed off again, to search for a new packet of candy.

"To...?" the professor promptly incredulously. The man's obsession with candy was probably not healthy.

"To make Draco Malfoy the Head Boy!" The headmaster finished with a dramatic flourish of his hand and leaned back in his chair to judge her reaction.

For once in her life, Professor McGonagall was speechless.

"Hermione! Over here!"

Hermione turned to see Harry wave over at her, his green eyes bright with the excitement of being able to see his two closest friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley again after a long summer. He ran over to her, closely followed by Ron, who seemed even more eager to see her, if possible.

"It's so nice to see you two again," Hermione laughed as she hugged them. While it was enjoyable to spend more time with her family, she definitely missed Ron and Harry. Ron was slightly reluctant to let go of her and she had to shake him off, giving him a small, disapproving frown.

"I have good news to tell you two," Hermione said as she pulled them towards Platform nine and three quarters. "But first, let's get on the train before it leaves us stranded here!"

When they were finally comfortably installed into a compartment, Harry and Ron were very curious indeed. "I'm Head Girl!" Hermione blurted excitedly and watched her friend's faces light up with happiness for her.

"Ron and I are both prefects, so you'll be ordering us around quite a bit, won't you?" Harry smiled at the thought of Hermione ordering himself and Ron around...as the Head Girl as well as their friend. That could possibly be a problem.

"Who's the Head Boy?" Ron asked abruptly. His face has darkened once again as if he had just discovered a very unpleasant truth. "You'll have to share a dorm with the bloke, won't you, Hermione?"

"Well, yes," Hermione said carefully and calmly watched his face turn from red to purple. "But I don't know who he is. See, there was a last minute change and Dumbledore decided to put someone else in the position of Head Boy. I can only hope that he's not slovenly or sadistic or anything like that..."

As Ron and Harry tried to guess who would have been promoted to Head Boy, Hermione stared absentmindedly out the window. Dumbledore didn't usually change his mind once he made a decision. He had to have had a good reason for switching Head Boys so abruptly.

Her seventh year at Hogwarts was going to be very different from her earlier years there. With Voldemort dead and the rest of the Death Eaters in hiding or imprisoned, school life would be more like muggle school life: more carefree, with only doing well in school to worry about. Well, that, and making sure that the Head Boy picked up after himself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Ron. "Say, is there going to be a dance or a ball of some sort coming around winter holidays?" he asked in a nonchalant tone.

"Um...I think so," she replied absently. "Apparently the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament was such a big success that they decided to have an annual ball before students leave for winter holidays. I'll have to help organize it."

She was looking out the window, and so didn't see Ron's eager expression. "Er, this might be a bit early, but would you like to go to the ball with...me?"

Hermione blinked, the conversation finally filtering through her mind. Her mouth opened and closed a few times without any sound coming out. "Oh, I don't know, Ronald. Perhaps it's best not to decide these things too early," she said weakly.

Ron pouted and sat back in his seat huffily while Harry eyed her as if to say, "_watch out, Hermione. You better not hurt your best mate Ron_."

Hermione added one more thing on her list of worries.

Strangely enough, once all the students had arrived at Hogwarts, they were all shooed into the Great Hall. The headmaster had a very important announcement to make.

"Young wizards and witches, as you all know, the war has taken its toll on us. We've lost many in battle and we will always mourn their losses. "He paused here and the hall was filled with a respectful moment of silence.

"I have been ordered by the Ministry to take action so that such a war will never take place again. I have been asked to encourage more communication between houses that normally don't speak with one another and improve relations in the student body. Therefore...Slytherins will have all their classes with the Gryffindors and same goes for the two remaining houses."

All hell broke loose in the hall as the students absorbed this piece of disastrous information.

"Awwww...we'll have to have classes with Crabbe and Goyle?" groaned Ron.

"Why?" whined a Ravenclaw as he twisted his school robes in his hands.

"I'll be able to see Draco Malfoy in my classes?" a Gryffindor girl gushed excitedly. "He's soooooo hot!"

"You touch him, you die!" Pansy Parkinson screamed murderously, causing the poor girl to shrink back.

A Hufflepuff girl began to sob quietly in the corner and had to be taken outside by teachers before she made a scene. You see, Mina Tarot was quite prone to hysterics.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and got everyone's attention once again. "In order to make this fair, I have also selected the Head Boy from Slytherin and the Head Girl from Gryffindor. The Head Girl will be Hermione Granger..." Here there was a polite smattering of applause from the audience, aside from a few errant boos from the Slytherins. "And the Head Boy...is Draco Malfoy."

Hermione stared at Dumbledore in shock for several seconds, her mouth agape. When Ron gently tapped on her jaw to make it close, she snapped it shut and closed her eyes. Merlin, Draco Malfoy..._Draco Malfoy_ of all people was going to be Head Boy. Was going to share a dorm with her?

Her list of worries was rapidly filling up. In fact, this might just be the limit.

This was going to be a loooong year.

* * *

><p>Please review! I know that the first three chapter or so won't be very exciting because I'm setting the stage for the story, but bear with me and you'll get to the good parts. :)<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy closed his eyes in disbelief. He knew that Dumbledore wouldn't have trusted him, with his father being a loyal supporter of the Dark Lord during the war, but really? Hermione Granger, the Mudblood, the bookworm, the complete antithesis of what Draco was himself: a pureblooded, slightly aristocratic (an uncle of his was a French duke before he was assassinated by jealous underlings) and very good-looking wizard. Oh, and modest too.

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall appeared out of nowhere and tapped him on the arm.

"Come to my office. There are things to discuss," she ordered in a low voice as Dumbledore continued to talk about the "peaceful" and "kind" conduct he expected from the students. Draco rolled his eyes; he knew that calling it "tolerant" behaviour would be stretching it a bit far.

Slipping out of the crowd, he made his way to her office door, only to encounter (oh, Merlin) Granger there. Why was the girl showing up everywhere? Draco closed his eyes in horror as he realised that he would be spending the _entire year_ stuck with the Mudblood. She'd be there during all his classes, pointing out all his mistakes and laughing and when he would go back to his dorm to get a rest, for Merlin's sake, she'd be there again, probably monopolizing the dorm with her books and whatnot.

"Why are _you _here?" he asked sullenly. "I'm surprised McGonagall even considers you important enough to talk to."

Hermione's eyes flashed. "Unlike you, I've earned the position of Head Girl through my own merit. I'd think that makes me important enough to talk to."

"Are you insinuating that my parents _bribed_ Hogwarts so I could be Head Boy with _you_ of all people? If you haven't noticed, my father is locked up in Azkaban and my mother..." Draco trailed off before he could mention that his mother was probably too cotton-brained to even think of bribing the school.

"Are you two done arguing like a couple of first years?" McGonagall inserted as she approached them. "You two are here to set a good example for the rest of the students. I know a lot of students aren't happy with these new changes..." Here Draco snorted derisively. "but it's up to you two to show them how to cooperate together. Now there just a few things that I need to tell you about..."

As the Head followed her into the room, she continued to ramble on about exceptional behaviour, duties, responsibilities, their dorms...Hermione listened attentively, interrupting her speech only to ask a few relevant questions. After the first ten minutes, Draco slouched in his chair and counted the cracks on the ceiling. After another half hour, he found out there were 289 on the left side of the room alone. Obviously Hogwarts needed a renovation.

One of the cracks was shaped like a snake. Was that McGonagall's way of saying Slytherins were the superior house? Subliminal messaging? Draco considered it for a moment before scrapping the idea.

In the end( after a couple hours) McGonagall eventually wound down and sent the Heads to their rooms. "Enjoy your spacious dorms!" she called out as she watched them trudge down the hall, with the occasional insult or shove.

"Have you told them about..." Dumbledore trailed off as he looked at her questioningly. He had just arrived from the Great Hall and looked quite worn out.

"No. I think it would be much more amusing for them to find out on their own..." McGonagall turned and walked back to her office, a grin on her face. "Meanwhile, would you like some tea?"

The two Heads continued on to their dorms in silence (well, _relative_ silence). After they announced the password, _Albus loves lemon drops_, to the portrait of a dramatically dressed Romany heiress, they proceeded to enter their rooms.

Hermione was shocked by the largeness of the common room that she and Draco would have to share. After years of living in the girl's dorm with the other Gryffindors, she was used to having to step over other people's clutter and to make room for her own. But with such a large space, and she would finally have room to properly place her books.

"_This_ is our common room?" said Draco in disgust. "It's tinier than our broom closet at home!"

Hermione just rolled her eyes and headed for the steps at the right side of the room. She didn't want to argue anymore with Draco Malfoy of all people. Not even if he was such a bigoted, conceited, arrogant...

Unfortunately, Hermione's brainstorming session on adjectives describing Draco was cut short when a pale, transparent shape whirled towards her and to her shock, passed right through her. She gasped and immediately reached for her wand in her robe's right pocket and turned to face her attacker. Draco, alerted by Hermione's shriek, reached for his own wand, only to find out that he had forgotten to take it out of his schoolbag and cursed.

"Why, hello, dears! Welcome to the Heads' dorm!" said the ghost of a girl around Hermione's age. Draco squinted and saw that her robes were torn and creased, as if she had fallen down a long way.

"Who in Merlin's name are you?" Draco asked bluntly. "And what are you doing in our dorm? Ghosts aren't allowed here."

The ghost girl looked taken aback. "Well, er, Jeraud and I both live here. We're the ghosts of this dorm and we have the Headmaster's express permission to be here."

Hermione frowned. "Not to be rude or anything, but why did Dumbledore allow you to stay here?"

"Because we died here," the ghost stated simply.

"Oh my..." Hermione now felt terrible for asking her question.

"So?" said Draco rudely. "That's not a valid reason for you and your companion to stay."

"Draco!" Hermione was about to lose it when a second ghost wafted lazily into the room.

"Draco?"

You see, this ghost resembled Draco Malfoy right down to the arrogantly raised right eyebrow. He had the same shade of blond hair, the same self-assured smirk and was even dressed in what was considered the most fashionable clothes a couple of centuries ago.

Draco seemed to be in shock, Hermione concluded. It was nice seeing the ever-confident Slytherin outside of his comfort zone for one.

But Draco was not in shock. He was struck with admiration for this ghost. He was so polished, so elegant...almost as much as himself! "I don't suppose you're an ancestor of mine."

The ghost seemed to be getting over his own shock of seeing Draco. "Jeraud Malfoy. I'm probably one of your great-great-great-great...you get the point...uncles. Never had little brats, because as you see, I'm dead."

The ghost girl was smiling happily as she floated towards Jeraud to join him. "I'm Maisie McQuade, and Jeraud and I are what you can consider the advisors of the Heads. If you two have any questions, don't hesitate to come to us." She frowned as she realised something. "Oh, and don't worry about us intruding on your privacy. Jeraud and I usually wander around Hogwarts socialising unless the Heads require us to be here."

Jeraud winked at Draco. "I can even give you girl advice. I was known as quite the – "

"Quite the dandy," Maisie interjected."Those foppish coats! Augh!" She shuddered in distaste.

"Thanks, but I won't require any advice," Draco said smoothly, even though he considered the offer an insult. "I'm known as a charmer in my year. Girls come flocking to me by the dozens each day," he said, flicking his hair back in an effort to look suave.

"Girls like Pansy Parkinson?" giggled Hermione. She was starting to like Jeraud's easy way of talking, and especially the way he caused Draco to react.

She laughed even harder when Jeraud quizzically asked who Pansy Parkinson was.

And as for Draco Malfoy...well, let's just say that he wasn't looking forward to the year at all.

* * *

><p>:) I know that this fanfic was put as a romancedrama fanfic, and there hasn't been much of it. All I can assure you readers is that it _will_ come. I have a personal dislike of fanfics that make the characters fall in love after 2 chapters. I mean, that doesn't sound very realistic to me at all and makes no sense! So have patience with me, and know that it will appear sometime. Or else, there'd be no reason to write this...


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione sighed with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness as she rolled out of bed. Anticipation for the start of a new school year, with all the new knowledge that would come with it, not to mention the new school books she would be able to delve into. Nervousness for the start of a new year...with Draco Malfoy in all her classes and living in the same dorm. Just... wonderful.

Perhaps it would have been better if she hadn't had that crush, no, _infatuation_ with him in fifth year. She had told nobody about it, not Harry or even her best friend, Ginny. She had hoped that with time, it would pass, and it did. Or at least, that's what she thought.

In the bedroom up the opposite flight of stairs, Draco certainly wasn't wasting his time dealing with such trivial things as _emotions._ He was carefully selecting from his extensive wardrobe (his walk-in closet was more like a walk-in room) a set of robes that would be helpful in the delightful past time of intimidating the newest batch of first years, freshly off the Hogwarts Express.

After carefully weighing the merits of each robe, he chose a plain one that fell in straightfolds to just below his knees. After all, he mused, if he couldn't manage to scare them mainly by himself, he couldn't see the robes as much support.

"Malfoy!"

He jumped slightly at the sound of his name and threw on his robes hurriedly before opening his door to peer down on Granger in their common room, her right foot tapping with impatience.

For the first time ever, and completely randomly, Draco noticed a small dimple right in the centre of her chin. When her mouth was set firmly, as it was now, it was even more prominent.

And for some strange reason that Draco could not fathom, he wanted to put his finger there to see if it was truly a dimple and not a trick of the light. You never knew with girls these days and their make-up.

"Don't just stand there gawking, Malfoy! We're the Heads, if you haven't noticed already, and we can't be late on the first day!"

At her impatient snap, Draco was jerked out of his reverie (more like the worst daymare of his life) and he grabbed his bag before heading down the stairs. Purebloods like himself simply did not think of Mudbloods in that way. It was unacceptable.

"What was taking you so long?" asked Hermione, annoyed, when he reached the bottom.

Draco shrugged as he stepped into the hall and shook his head again, still shaken by how he had thought about her. "Oh...just some important things that I'm sure a Mudblood like you wouldn't understand," he said absently.

Hermione's blood felt like it was boiling. After stubbing her toe getting out of bed that morning, spilling hot tea on herself, and losing her favourite pair of socks, she was called derogatory names and condescended to even though she had done him a favour by reminding him of the time. Typical.

"Fine, I can see you don't want my help," Hermione said angrily," but you don't have to be such an arrogant prick about it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to walk to Potions with my friends." She turned her back to him and began to walk away.

Draco raised his eyebrows in mock astonishment. For some reason, he couldn't resist baiting her just a bit more. "Friends? Granger has _friends_?" He saw her stop and her stance grow rigid.

"Yes, I do," Hermione snapped, hating the fact that out of the two of them, _she_ was the one on the defensive. "Two of my friends being Harry and Ron," she said, knowing that mentioning them would annoy him.

He snorted in derision. "Pottyface and Weaselbreath don't count. They're more like your partners in following rules and being teacher's pets."

Hermione let out a surprised peal of laughter before she could stop herself. "I'm not a teacher's pet," she protested. "Have you _seen_ the way Snape looks at me?"

Draco smiled reluctantly as he recalled an incident he had heard from another Gryffindor. Apparently, when Hermione had accidentally spilled a minor potion ingredient on the ground, Snape had given her a week's detention for "being spitefully clumsy". Not that Draco could ever be as "spitefully clumsy", but if he happened to do the same, he knew for a fact that Snape would just look the other way.

"Fine," he admitted. "But that doesn't explain your good standing with all the other teachers. McGonagall especially. 'Oh, Ms. Granger," he said in a terrible falsetto, "you are such a reliable role model for the first years."

"Is it such a crime to set a good example for younger witches?" Hermione queried, trying not to laugh again. Draco Malfoy of all people pretending to be the strictest female teacher in the school. What a sight.

"Not if you rub it into every wizard's face," he said in exasperation, turning a few heads their way.

"If you haven't noticed already," Hermione retorted, "I crave attention much less than you do."

Draco's lips twitched into his customary smirk. "I don't crave attention, Mudblood. I already have everything I want and need."

There was nothing to say to that. Hermione looked away and tried to nonchalantly observe the other students rushing to get to class. Recalling the time, Hermione upped the pace.

"Of course, I don't mind if extra attention is freely given to me," continued Draco as he hurried beside her. "In fact, I often give younger wizards my wise and worldly advice."

Despite herself, Hermione turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised. "What kind of advice are we talking about here?" she asked cautiously. (After all, there had been several rumours circulation during the last year about Draco's many, _many_ talents).

Draco felt mild panic running through his body. He had let down his guard too much and had actually ended up talking normally to _her_. He needed to put an end to it immediately, before any more harm was done. "Oh, advice i wouldn't expect a mere Mudblood to understand," he said airily, watched her expression for every minute change.

"You...you are insufferable!" growled Hermione, her hands curling into fists. She pushed open the door and stormed into the Potions classroom. It was only when she was inside did she realize she had walked all the way there with Draco Malfoy, that pureblooded git, _alone._

The Potions classroom was empty. That is to say, it _was_ empty when Hermione barged in, her chest heaving in exertion. However, about half a second later, an enormous gaggle of Slytherin and Gryffindor seventh years poured in, much like a rhino stampede.

At first glance, the double desks in the classroom only allowed two to a seat, so Hermione hurriedly claimed the seat behind Harry and Ron. Ron immediately turned to face her. "Are you alright?" he shouted over the cacophony of noise. "Harry and I had to run after we couldn't wait for you any longer. That git Malfoy didn't try keep you away from us, did he?"

Before Hermione could respond, none other than the illustrious Professor Snape entered the room. His black, stringy hair seemed more greasy than usual and his robes were tattered and more worn that before, if that was possible. The only thing that hadn't deteriorated or changed about him was his sullen moody expression that clearly said, I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE.

As soon as everyone saw him, the tension in the room became almost tangible. Gryffindors and Slytherins eyed each other suspiciously; they had just realized that they would have to be working together and seeing each other every day for the next year. Snape finally broke the silence. "In spirit of the new changes made in Hogwarts, I've decided to take it a step further and implement some changes of my own," he stated tonelessly. "At each desk, there must be precisely one Gryffindor and one Slytherin student. Rearrange yourselves."

The room erupted into chaos once again as the students frantically searched for a seating neighbour that possessed at least a modicum of intelligence, personality and even good looks. Hermione rose from her seat and bit her lip as she surveyed the room.

Blaise Zabini? No, too sadistic.

Pansy Parkinson? And her gushing?

No, thank you.

As for Crabbe in the corner who was waving at her and grinning creepily...Hermione shuddered.

Little did she know that while she was contemplating the merits – or lack thereof – of various unfortunate Slytherins, she had missed her opportunity to actually choose a respectable seat-mate.

Meanwhile, Draco was mentally kicking himself. He knew that most of the Gryffindor girls had massive crushes on him (yes, even allowing for his equally massive ego), although it was hightly unlikely that they would ever admit it. He also knew that the reason most of them wanted to sit with him was so they could try to entice him and then somehow force a confession of his undying love out of _him_. Ha, not bloody likely.

He snorted. After all, Draco Malfoy was not a dumb guy. In fact, he was even distantly related to Einstein on his mother's side (yes, Albert Einstein was a wizard. How do you think he came up with all those theories?).

But just look at where his so called intelligence had gotten him. He had deliberately scared those firls awat, hoping miraculously, a more suitable seat-mate would appear. But now, the only person who just happened to be left standing was Hermione Granger and the seat beside his just happened to be empty. You do the math.

Judging from the stiff and expressionless look on her face, Granger didn't seem to particularly want to sit next to him either. She shuffled to their desk reluctantly and say on the farthest corner away from him, staring straight ahead.

"Thank you for taking your sweet time, Ms. Granger," said Snape sarcastically. Then turning to the rest of the class, he stated, "Your neighbour will also be your Potions partner for the rest of the year. Now, let's begin with the Emoticus potion..."

Hermione's attention wavered as she was struck with the horror at the notion that Malfoy was her Potions partner. Having to sit next to him for a year, all the while putting up with his pureblooded arrogance and stupid smirk was more than she could bear.

But then, as Hermione turned to look at him, the first thing she noticed was the earnestness in his eyes as he listened attentively to the professor speak. She had a feeling (a small one, mind you) that he wouldn't be like any of the other Potions partners she had had in the past. The kind that watched uninterestedly as she excitedly poured the ingredients together to create something new, something that had not been there until she had brought everything together. She saw an avid interest for potions in his eyes, and without realizing it, she smiled.

"Ms. Granger!"

Hermione looked up, blinking at the professor.

"While I understand that you might harbour tender feelings..." Here Snape stopped and swallowed as if trying to prevent a gag, "for Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you put those feelings aside until the class if over."

Hermione's cheeks burned as the class (mostly the Slytherins) tittered. Draco flashed her his classic smirk that irked her even further. Harry, who was seated unfortunately next to Pansy, was shooting her sympathetic glances.

And as for Ron...well, let's just say he looked furious. _Really_ furious.


	4. Chapter 4

It would be a lie to say that the rest of the day went any better. In Transfiguration, McGonagall assigned seating for the first time ever and Hermione got stuck with Draco – again. In their mandatory Muggle Studies class, Professor McTavish (who was new) also assigned seats. And she got stuck with him. Again.

"This is insufferable," muttered Draco angrily as he stuffed his Muggle Studies textbook into his bag. "Being forced to learn all about the repulsive habits of Muggles while sitting next to a Mudblood..."He trailed off in horror.

Meanwhile, Hermione was suffering a similar relapse. "I have to put up with Malfoy and his warped, pureblooded beliefs for three classes a day," she sighed. It would be terrible, having to endure all the snide comments she was sure he would hurl her way.

It was the end of the day and many of the students were eager to get back to their dorms. And also to get away from the dreaded classroom. As Hermione looked up, she saw Harry and Ron approaching, books in hand. She flashed them a relieved smile, glad to finally have time to spend with her friends.

"Come on, Hermione," urged Ron. "Let's get you out of here so you don't have to deal with _him_ anymore." He jerked a thumb at Draco and turned as if to leave.

"Come on, Drakey-poo," cooed Pansy at the same time. "I'm sure you'd rather be doing _something else_ right now, without the bookworm hanging on to you all day." She flashed Hermione a very unfriendly look.

Hermione stood up, ready to go. She'd had enough of him and his Slytherin friends. But..."As much as I suffered today," Draco drawled, "and I assure you, I _have_ suffered, Granger and I have to go to Dumbledore's first."

"What? Why?" She frowned and tried to remember if the headmaster had told them to meet him that day.

Draco snorted. "There _has_ to be some mistake. You and I can't just "happen" to have to sit beside each other for 3 whole classes a day."

"As much as I hate to agree with Malfoy, I second that," Ron announced reluctantly.

Pansy pouted but made no objection as the two Heads hurried away. It was hard to tell who was more eager to get the situation fixed.

When they reached the Headmaster's office, they heard sounds of cracking and snapping. Concerned, Hermione knocked anxiously on the door.

"Cawme in!" they heard through the thick mahogany wood. The voice was muffled, as if there was something stuffed inside the speaker's mouth. Opening the door slowly, Draco peered in to see the headmaster lounging back in his comfy chair, with an empty candy wrapper in his hand.

"Sit, sit," Dumbledore said around his full mouth. Leaning forward to survey the two through his thick spectacles, he waved his hand towards the enormous packet of sweets on his desk. "Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you," Hermione declined politely. "We're here because – "

"We're here because we've been forced to endure each other's company for 3 classes a day already and we can't do it anymore," interrupted Draco dramatically. "This can't just be a coincidence so we want different seats."

Hermione looked down at her shoes. She had understood that wanting to sit with other people was a desire she and Draco both shared but he didn't have to be so bloody frank and blunt about it.

Dumbledore's face was entirely serious now. "Of course it's a coincidence, Mr. Malfoy. Surely you don't suspect that _I_ am manipulating this so that you and Ms. Granger must sit together every day. I assure you that 'enduring' each other's company can only help the two of you get along better. Now, if you two will excuse me, I have more important business to attend to."

"But...but...," sputtered Draco before Hermione yanked him out the door. The last glance the two Heads for before the door swung closed on the all-too-short meeting was one of the headmaster gleefully unwrapping another lemon drop.

Dumbledore glanced up as Professor McGonagall entered his office silently. "Minerva, do you suppose that our Head Boy and Girl are _extremely_ angry with us at this instant?"

The professor sighed tiredly, sinking into an elaborately padded chair. "Is the grass green? Is the sky blue? Albus, of course they're angry and rightfully so. We should have never tampered with those seating arrangements. But then, we thought that they would stand 2 classes a day together."

"Three," Dumbledore corrected.

She frowned. "So in one class, they actually ended up sitting together coincidentally. But that's not the point. Are you sure we did the right thing?"

It was his turn to sigh, signs of exhaustion settling on his face and body like sifted flour on a surface. "The reason that I made Draco Head Boy was because I wanted him to learn about responsibility. His father was one of the Dark Lord's most important supporters and Draco was raised from birth to follow in his footsteps."

"It was fortunate that he never reached the age where he would have to actively follow the Dark Lord, or he might have never had a chance to reform. So to prevent him from making future choices that might harm the Wizarding World once more, I put him in the position so he would learn to take his duties more seriously. So he would learn to help others."

"But why make sure he and Hermione are stuck together for a whole year even though you know they have a very likely chance to killing each other within the next few days?" demanded the professor, her brow furrowed at this new information.

"Hermione Granger is...who I believe to be the complete antithesis of our Head Boy. A muggle-born wizard that takes her duties very seriously indeed. Too seriously sometimes."

"And you're hoping some of it might rub off on him," injected McGonagall sceptically.

"Oh, not at all. There'd be little to no chance of that happening. I'm hoping that he'll learn about tolerance and acceptance of those so different from himself. Those that do _not_ come from pureblooded families. After all, this lack of tolerance was one of the original factors that started the war."

"Well, I hope you're right," the professor said as if she was washing her hands of the situation. "I really do. Oh, and may I have one of those lemon drops, please?"

Draco was angry. No, scratch that. He was mind-numbingly, uncontrollably and murderously furious. He was going to have to spend his whole year gagged and bound to...to _her_ of all people. He could already hear the echoes of what the school gossips were going to say.

"Awww...look at poor wittle Dwakey-wakey. Still holding on to the Mudblood's apron strings, awen't we?"

"Malfoy's finally lost it. I heard he also painted his room pink and desperately loves unicorns now."

"Oh la la! There's always something about forbidden love that just strikes you, isn't there?"

Alright. Ew. Maybe not that.

Storming into his room as soon as they reached the Head's dorm, he hurled his school bags into a corner and snatched his broomstick (the latest model, a Fierus 7000). The windows in his room were too small to fit through so he ran down the stairs to the common room and towards the large bay window at the back wall.

"Malfoy! We're not supposed to leave school grounds without the Headmaster's express permission."

Draco gritted his teeth. "For once, would you just mind your own business, Mudblood? I am going to get drunk and escape this infernal mess for a few hours, if you don't mind. Did you think that I'd be bouncing with joy at being locked to your side?"

And with that, he launched himself out the window and flew erratically away. Hermione stood still for a long minute. Then she gave a little hop. "Yay," she said sarcastically.

Draco was in his element. With Crabbe, Goyle and Blaise Zabini at his side, he landed at a small tavern on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The tatter, splintered sign that hung crookedly over the entrance read "The Greasy Monkey". Based on the dilapidated image of the building, not to mention the er, interesting name, Draco guessed no one came here often.

However, its exterior did not affect the quality or concentration of their Firewhiskey. After many, many tankards of it (so many Draco lost count), he and the other Slytherins stumbled out onto the deserted street. As he exited the tavern, one of the curly haired barmaids winked flirtatiously at him, which immediately prompted his customary smirk to flash across his face.

Unfortunately, it also prompted him to become cocky (well, at least more cocky that usual). So cocky, that when Blaise slurred, "Sho, what d'you think we should do now?", Draco responded, "Let's go bother some Muggles."

And _that_ was what eventually led them to be hiding in some hydrangea bushes located in a nearby muggle park (due to their drunkenness, none of them could remember a spell for concealment, so they had to do it the old-fashioned way).

It was late and the darkness was only punctuated by faint pinpricks of light. Of course, this only served to heighten the boys' anticipation. And soon enough, a muggle couple strolled towards the swings, holding hands as they sat down next to one another.

"What do we do now?" hissed Crabbe as he swayed precariously. Goyle by now was slumped on the ground, sleeping with his mouth hanging open and his tongue lolling out.

"We shcare them!" Blaise hissed in reply before Draco could say anything. "Like thish. Accio purse!"

The lady's purse lifted itself out of her lap, as if by an invisible hand, and flew with increasing speed towards the bushes. It hit Blaise in the stomach(whose reflexes were considerably hindered by the alcohol) and caused him to curse, falling over as he did so.

"My purse! Where is it!" screeched the lady in horror. "What happened? How could it fly like that! Jeremiah, help meeeeeeeeeee!" You could just tell she was one of those hysterical types.

Blaise groaned at her piercing voice and remained down. It seemed as if he was out for the night.

"Never fear, Gertrude, my darling honeypie. Your man, Jeremiah Mipophamus Coriandus Higgenbottom the Sixth will fetch it back for you!" And with that, the man got off his swing and began running towards where the Slytherins were hiding.

Crabbe gagged at his ridiculous speech, not to mention his _name_ and collapsed on top of Goyle. Now Draco was the only conscious one that could take on uh, Jeremiah Mipophamus Coriandus Higgenbottom the Sixth.

There are a lot of things that could have happened. For example, if Draco hadn't been shot-in-the-neck drunk, he could have had a good chance at saving himself. However, because he was, in fact, very very drunk, he was unable to drag the others onto their brooms and fly off before Jeremiah discovered them.

And if Jeremiah hadn't happened to be an Olympic sprinter, he wouldn't have gotten to the bushes right when Draco and the others finally reached their brooms and began to fly away, some in a drunken zigzag pattern.

They say that when the human brain is hit with a shocking fact that it simply cannot accept, it tricks itself into believing something different. This theory was greatly proven that night.

"Giant moths!" screamed Jeremiah. "Run for your lives!"

He began to run in the opposite direction, having completely forgotten about his lady love, Gertrude.

"Wait for meeeeee!" was the last thing the boys heard as they speeded back to Hogwarts.

"Phew!" Goyle mumbled. "I was sure we were almost spotted."

"We _were_ spotted, you fool," snarled Draco. His drunkenness was wearing off, leaving him with a pounding headache and an impending sense of dread. What had he done?

That dread only deepened when he arrived at the Head's dorm, only to encounter the headmaster and Professor McGonagall standing sternly inside the common room, the professor's arms crossed over her chest.

Before Draco could speak, Professor McGonagall pointed a stern finger towards a chair. "Sit," she said with a voice that demanded immediate obedience.

He sank into the plush chair as the headmaster began to speak.

"Mr. Malfoy, do you have any idea how anxiously we've been waiting for your return? We were tipped off by reports spreading on the muggle news about some giant moths. Something about a erm, Jeremiah Hippopotamus something," Dumbledore frowned in confusion. "But never mind. Professor Snape was at Hogsmeade today running and errand and he spotted you with your friends and came directly to me. After I put two and two together, I sent out some staff to search for you two, but it seems that's no longer necessary."

Draco's mind was reeling. Not because he was caught, nor was it because he'd likely receive a harsh punishment. He was astonished that Granger had kept the fact that he'd left a secret and not said anything to anyone.

"No doubt you are aware of your impending punishment," McGonagall interrupted his thoughts. "The others will receive detentions and several shores to do. But as Head Boy, you wield more responsibility and therefore your punishment will be greater as well. We have decided that when you step outside of this school, Ms. Granger must accompany you at all times."

Draco sputtered. "As if she'd actually agree to that!"

"Hermione is a very responsible, hard-working girl," the professor said sternly, her voice softening," I have good reason to think that she will accept this duty from the goodness of her heart. You will be lucky if she does so, Mr. Malfoy. For if she does not, you will not be permitted to exit Hogwarts again for the remainder of your seventh year, except for winter holidays, of course."

He was speechless. This was it, then. In trying to get away from Granger for a few hours, he had chained himself to her permanently for the year.

"We will leave it to you to tell Ms. Granger," the headmaster said as he headed towards the door. "Inform her she is to tell us of her decision tomorrow afternoon, after classes."

With that, they left. Draco closed his eyes, his head hurting even more than before, thanks to the weight of his punishment added to the consequences of his earlier drunken indulgences. What was worse? Having to ask Granger of all people to do something for him, to sacrifice something for him? Or to be stuck inside this musty old castle for another 10 months?

It was a hard choice, but Draco was accustomed to battling for his freedom. Even before the war, his father had refused to let him out of Malfoy Manor, claiming it was to keep him same, and most importantly, the continuation of their long line of purebloods. Now that his father was locked away in Azkaban, he finally had a chance for freedom. Not the kind that lasted for a few hours when he snuck out of the mansion, but the real thing.

And besides, Draco Malfoy never backed away from a challenge. It was settled; he'd ask Granger immediately.

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><p>REVIEW please :D<p>

and also, if anyone knows, can you tell me if the Yule Ball was before winter holidays, or after?


	5. Chapter 5

Even though it was close to midnight, Draco started towards the stairs leading the Head Girl's room. At the base of the steps, he hesitated and almost turned back. After all, what if she said no and laughed in his face? That's what he would do in her position, but he brushed that thought aside as irrelevant. His pried would not allow him to back off at this moment.

As he ascended step by step, he felt his heart beating faster for some strange reason. Was he nervous? No, Malfoys made _others_ nervous; they themselves were too sophisticated for such base emotions. When he finally built up enough guts to push open the door to Granger's room (Malfoys already had all the guts they needed – he just needed a tad more for the occasion), he peered in.

The first thing he saw was a Hermione-shaped lump under the covers. She was sleeping. Well, of course she's sleeping, he told himself in disgust. She probably sets a curfew for herself and goes to bed at 8 or something like a five-year-old.

As he stared at her, she rolled onto her side, mumbling slightly as she did so. It sounded suspiciously like, "...atrocious...arrogant...prick, I despise...him..." A lock of curly chestnut hair fell over her cheek as she fidgeted and Draco's eye was immediately drawn to it. Hermione Granger was quite exquisite, Draco realized, dumbfounded. Not pretty in a flamboyantly obvious way, of course, but in a subtle way that was only revealed after you truly studied her face.

Her eyelashes were long and curling, brushing down on smooth, cream-coloured cheeks. A small smile lurked at the edges of her mouth, which gave her a softer, more welcoming look than the half wary, half disgusted one she usually directed at Draco. Even her bushy brown hair which he had always deemed to be chaotic and unattractive had, over the years, turned out to be gleaming locks that shone with health. She had curves in all the right places, even thought he had never noticed them, not under the school robes he had always seen her wear.

In fact, how could he not have noticed for _six years_? Six years of seeing her everyday and even sharing a couple of classes with her?

Because she's a Mudblooed, he reminded himself harshly. Looks – good or otherwise – were not able to change that fact. She was nothing more...and would be nothing more than mere filth under his pureblooded status.

And at that exact moment (probably since she had a feeling someone was there), Hermione woke up.

And what should she see but Draco Malfoy of all people standing over her with a furious expression on his face?

You have to forgive the girl for jumping to conclusions.

Hermione leapt out of her bed, reaching for her wand on the bedside table. In her haste, she knocked it over the side and it rolled under her bed.

"No!" she cried and frantically took hold of an empty Ming vase on the table. "Get away from me," she said warningly. "Or I _will_ throw this and trust me, my aim is impeccable. I'm not one of those girls...Don't think that just because we're living in the same quarters that you can just...Oh, damn it, I'm not Pansy Parkinson, you know," she finally finished, panting, her vase still poised to throw.

The two ghosts chose this moment to drift inside.

"What happened?" Maisie demanded with concern. "Jer and I heard some clanging and shouting."

Jeraud peered at Draco standing next to the bed and then at Hermione...also...standing next to the bed. It looked...suspicious to say the least.

"Forgive us, were we interrupting anything?" Jeraud asked cautiously. He had seen many circumstances like these for the last couple centuries or so and knew that most of the time, it was best to just tip toe away and pretend you never saw anything.

A tense silence filled the room, only to be warily broken by Hermione. "Um...would you and Maisie mind giving us some time to talk privately?"

"Of...of course!" Maisie said, her pale face tinged with the slightest hint of pink. As the ghosts floated away, Hermione and Draco heard her mutter," I can't believe they...they..."

"The current generation is more similar to our own than I thought," Jeraud remarked thoughtfully, only to have Maisie attempting to elbow him and failing miserably because she passed right through his body.

Hermione sighed tiredly. "Great, just great. They think we're...doing...things. What were you doing in my room in the middle of the night anyways?" she asked angrily.

"There was something I had to ask you," Draco said haughtily, not a hair out of place.

"_Now_? What could possibly be so important that you would just storm up here and not bother to knock?"

Draco braced himself and took a deep breath before telling her about Dumbledore's ultimatum. He didn't ask her for anything but merely stated the facts as they stood.

Hermione stayed silent for the longest time, causing Draco to feel his dread deepening. This was it then; he'd never get to go outside the castle and its grounds for the year. He was well and truly imprisoned in a cage again.

She couldn't believe she was actually considering it. Accompanying him outside would be doing the right thing – after all, the Head Girls was expected to take on extra duties. But doing so also meant that _she_ was stuck with him on her Hogsmeade trips as well. There was no way Harry and Ron would let her bring him with them so the only solution would be to go alone with him.

Alone with Malfoy. Hermione shuddered.

"If you're going to say no, just say it," snapped Draco, annoyed at her prolonged silence. It was just like the Mudblood to string him along and torture him a bit before hurling a resounding NO at him. "It doesn't matter much to me either way," he lied.

But one look into his stormy grey eyes and Hermione knew the truth. If you only dug deep enough, you could see the anguish inside at the thought of being imprisoned.

And the worst part was, Hermione knew exactly how he felt. Sympathizing with the enemy, imagine that. She herself also sometimes had that tight feeling in her chest; the feeling that all the studying she was doing was slowly caving in on her, locking her inside an indestructible cage. There was no way out because she somehow couldn't stop and she feared that one day, she wouldn't even know who she herself truly was. She would only be able to recite her textbooks by heart over and over again. She would be dead, in all the ways that mattered.

"I'll do it," she said, surprised at how easily those words came to her lips.

"You...will?" Draco's mind spun dizzyingly and he only managed to grasp what she had just said.

"A simple thank you will suffice."

Draco opened his mouth but no words came out. He tried again, with no success and scowled.

Hermione smiled slightly. Trust the git to be incapable of thanking anyone. "You're welcome, Malfoy," she said as she slid into her bed. Draco caught a whiff of wild roses as she shook out her covers.

"Go," she ordered from her bed, her hair still mussed and wildly curling from sleep. "Leave," she said as if talking to a young child, and pointed at the door.

Draco left, deep in thought.

The early morning sunlight streamed in through the wide windows of Hermione's room and fell onto her face, waking her up. Groaning, she pushed aside her covers and slid her feet onto the floor. The cold stone under her bare feet woke her up sufficiently for her to throw on a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt before dressing in her robes and stuffing her feet into her shoes.

Tiptoeing because it was only a few minutes after dawn, Hermione sneaked down to the Great Hall to grab some toast and then headed to one of her favourite places in the castle.

It was an abandoned tower on the east side of Hogwarts that appeared like it hadn't been used for a couple centuries or so. The furniture there was worn and dust and in a mostly Georgian style. Ever since she had discovered it during her third year, Hermione had come to think of this place as _her_ tower and liked to come here to quietly think when something was troubling her.

After reaching the tower's uppermost level, Hermione dragged out a stool from a corner and climbed up onto it to look for the hidden trapdoor on the ceiling. She soon felt the latch she was searching for, unhooked it and pushed the wooden door open with a bang.

First hoisting up her heavy schoolbag and then herself, Hermione rearranged herself comfortably on the worn tiles. Finally, peace. Even if it was only found on a tower roof.

Contentedly watching the sun slowly rise and the sounds of nature wake up, Hermione ate her breakfast. She thought about all the big developments that had occurred on only the first day and tried to wrap her head around them. She tried very hard (very, _very_ hard) to convince herself that spending so much time with Draco Malfoy wouldn't be too terrible.

After all, at least he's intelligent, she told herself. He's not like Crabbe or Goyle or Merlin forbid, Pansy. He was also good-looking, she grudgingly admitted, although she had no idea how that facto would make the time she would have to spend with him more bearable.

She tried to think of more favourable things about him but could think of no more. Sighing, she stopped herself before she thought about what she would have to deal with on a regular basis. While brushing toast crumbs off of her robes and standing up to go, Hermione spotted some movement out of the corner of her eye.

It was Malfoy on his broomstick, she realized belatedly. She'd always thought that like the spoiled and affluent wizard he was, he'd sleep in late every morning. But here he was, on his broom, looking as if he was also deep in contemplation. He was frowning as he gazed towards the horizon and it seemed he hadn't noticed her at all.

Good. She planned to keep it that way. She hunched down to make herself as small as she could possibly be, and started to crawl towards the trap door that would take her back inside. Almost forgetting her bag, she pulled it by the strap behind her.

That turned out to be a big mistake. The strap wound around her legs as she moved, so that her legs were forced together. And as she turned around to loosen it, one of the tiles from the old tower roof loosened and began to slip. Unfortunately, that was the tile that Hermione was sitting on.

Hermione screamed. The tile was picking up speed, sliding down that tower roof as if it was a sled of sorts. And as Draco finally turned his head to see what was going on, the tile launched itself off the ledge.

Couldn't a bloke just have some peace and quiet for a few moments? Draco thought to himself as he saw Hermione on her tile.

He immediately redirected his broom, with all the expertise of playing years of Quidditch and flew speedily towards her, his hair blowing back in the wind. He stopped a few feet below her and when she fell to about his height, he reached out an arm and snagged her by the waist in a lightning quick movement, dragging her onto his broom.

He was slightly amused to see the Head Girl's eyes tightly shut and her mouth open in a silent scream.

"Afraid of heights, aren't we, Granger?" he asked, his lips lifting into his smirk.

She nodded, her expression still frozen and her voice still mute.

He deliberately made the broom fly higher just to aggravate her. She let out a small scream and her arms clamped down around him, making breathing hard for him until he began a slow descent.

"A simple thank you will suffice, Granger," he mocked when they were about forty feet off the ground, throwing her own words back at her.

She decided to pinch him for his snarky tone.

"You're welcome, Granger," he said as he helped her into their common room window.

And although Hermione rarely did so (there was only one other occasion), she made a very rude hand gesture towards the Head Boy before slamming the window closed and locking it, forcing him to get in through the main entrance of the castle.

Draco did what he usually did in situations like these. Fly away while cursing creatively.

"He saved me, Ginny," Hermione said as she leaned back with a cup of hot cocoa in her hands.

Ginny's eyes were like saucers. "Do you have any idea what most of the girls here would trade to be saved by Draco Malfoy?"

The girls were seated by the fireplace in the Head Girl's room. Hermione smiled, thinking that it had been much too long since she'd had a heart to heart with Ginny.

"_I_ wouldn't trade anything," she sniffed. "He actually had the nerve to mock me about it afterwards, so I figure that cancels out anything nice he might have done for me."

"_And_ besides getting saved," Ginny continued," you get to spend almost every second with him. In Hogwarts _and _out. Do you have any idea how many girls are teeming with jealousy?"

"I don't count spending time with him as a pleasant past time," Hermione said, disturbed. Yes, Draco was a known womanizer, but she had expected most of the girls (at least the Gryffindors) to have enough sense not to hanker after him.

"So...has anything happened that I should know about? Any _action?_" Ginny asked, a gleam in her eyes.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Hermione was confused until she saw that _'oh, y'know'_ look on Ginny's face. "What! No!"

"Not even a small peck on the cheek?" Ginny asked forlornly as she sipped her cocoa.

"No. _No_. NO."

Ginny sobered and stopped teasing. "Good, Hermione. I don't want to see you get hurt. He has no heart, no heart at all."

Hermione believed that. Oh, she believed that to the fullest. Now, if only all the other girls believed it too...But right now, at the mention of wizards with no hearts, her best friend looked so sad that Hermione stopped thinking about that.

"Ginny...is something going wrong between you and Harry?" she asked gently, thinking perhaps Ginny's sudden distrust may have come from problems in her own relationship.

Ginny looked up and the Head Girl could tell that she was holding in tears. "No, why would you say that?"

"_Ginny."_

"Oh, alright. Harry's been acting really distant lately and he never has time for me anymore. I think that...think that he..."Ginny finally broke down and tears ran down her cheeks.

"There's this girl in Slytherin, Silvana DeFaye. Harry sits next to her in Muggle Studies and he's always talking about her. I thought I was making a big thing out of it too, but it turns out that he's been writing to her over the summer too, and he never told me! In fact, I would have never found out if Silvana didn't tell me herself. She also hinted that there was more between them that she wouldn't even tell me about..."

Hermione looked worriedly at her friend. "Harry wouldn't do something like that to you, Ginny. Have you thought that maybe, this Silvana was lying?"

Ginny turned away. "I did, and I hoped. But Harry admitted it when I asked. And then, right after, he walked away and told me that he had something more important to do!" She ended on a sob.

Hermione wrapped her arms comfortingly against the redhead and held her close. "I'll keep an eye out for them, so don't worry. It'll be fine, Ginny," she soothed. Now, if only she believed that herself.

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><p>Reviews always welcome *hint hint* :)<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Draco fidgeted in his seat. This was the one class where he did not belong: Muggle Studies. The past few days, the new professor, McTavish, had done nothing but talk about the major differences between the Wizarding world and the Muggle world. Something called ee-lack-tri-ci-something that Draco couldn't remember.

Now it was time for some Muggle culture, according to the professor.

"As I have mentioned before, a television is a metal box, which relies on electricity to power it. It is mainly used for the entertainment of Muggles and is similar to a Pensieve, only instead of people's memories, a viewer is able to watch a drama, or comedy. It is controlled with a television remote, which is powered by batteries."

"Television is often a good place to experience Muggle culture," continued the professor excitedly, waving his arms very dramatically. "In fact, there are many channels to choose from, each with a difference television program. So much variety!" One of his exuberant gestures nearly took a Slytherin boy's head off in the front seat, and everyone in the front row had to resort to ducking their heads occasionally afterwards.

Winding down to the conclusion of the class, Professor McTavish thumped his desk and glared to force the students that were eager to leave to sit down again. "Not so fast. Now's the time for your first project of the year!" he said, happily ignorant of the groans erupting around him.

"Your partner will be the person seated beside you. The two of you must work together to research a specific part of Muggle television culture, for example, Spiderman, Spongebob, and so on! You will hand in a detailed 5 page report by next Friday. Class dismissed."

Many of the students left, grumbling, Hermione and Draco among them.

"I will leave this in your capable hands, Granger." Draco dusted his hands and walked faster as if he had just handed all the responsibility to her (which he had just tried to do).

"Not, so fast, Malfoy," Hermione said, catching hold of his robes and forcing him back next to her. "We are working _together_ on this. Even if it means I have to teach you about Wolverine and the X-men."

Draco snorted. "And how do you propose to do that? Anything Muggle is obviously not my forte. "

"Oh, you'll see." Hermione smiled secretively, and thought of the Hogsmeade trip scheduled to take place in 2 days.

The day was finally here. After many days of fidgeting in classes and glancing at the clock every few seconds, it was finally time to go to Hogsmeade.

Hermione was very nervous. She had conveniently forgotten to tell Harry and Ron about having to go with Draco. She knew that Ginny was going with them and was counting on her telling her two friends when she didn't show up at their usual meeting spot. She knew it was cowardly and not like a Gryffindor at all, but at the moment, she couldn't put up with the fuss that she was sure Ron was going to make.

"Come on, Granger, I don't have all day you know," snapped Draco as he pulled her along towards the entrance.

"What's the rush?" Hermione puffed as she struggled to keep up. "You do know that we have to make sure all the younger students get their safely before we can run our own errands, right?"

Draco had the look of a hunted deer even as he denied anything was wrong. "Nothing, Granger. I just don't like wasting time, you got a problem with that?"

Hermione stomped her feet into a stable position on the ground and glared at him. "I am not taking another step until you tell me what this is all about. I'm not about to willingly walk into a trap you set up to humiliate me or anything."

The Head Boy looked as if he was about to pick her up and run with her under his arm. "Fine," he conceded, "But let's run, er, walk while I tell you."

And with that, she was jerked along again.

"Pansy Parkinson." Those were the only two words he muttered, but they explained everything.

THEIR FIRST STOP AT HOGSMEADE

"Oh, here!" Hermione dragged her unfortunate companion into the oldest, mustiest bookstore in Hogsmeade.

"You have enough books already, Granger. I barely have space to put my stuff in the dorm," whined Draco (who was not usually given to whining, but after a hectic time forcing first years into line, he was exhausted, and quite frankly, wanted a drink).

But the Head Girl had already disappeared into a mountain of tomes. Draco wondered what she would do if he "accidentally" tipped it over. Hex him? Turn him into a ferret again? He shuddered and decided to pursue less dangerous past times.

He was soon engrossed in a book about Quidditch and the best players ever to grace the field. To his surprise, Viktor Krum had a chapter all to himself.

"Krum, that scum, has 50 pages about himself?"Draco muttered to himself, enraged (and slightly jealous, just slightly). "I've got to see what they say about him. Probably all about a disgusting nose-picking habit that he's tried to keep secret."

Meanwhile, Hermione was heading to the counter to pay for her three books (additional reading material to enrich some course content), when she saw none other than Draco Malfoy _reading a book_. And looking very interested to boot.

_Who would have thought?_ Hermione thought as she smiled to herself. Malfoy isn't always a git. Nevertheless, it still horrified her that they had something in common though.

And at that moment, the blonde Slytherin jabbed violently at a section in his book and emitted a loud "Ah HA!" that made everyone in the store jump.

Hermione hurried over to him. "What's wrong?" she hissed, trying to subdue the glares directed towards them at Draco's loud exclamation.

"Nothing." Draco smugly slammed the book closed and paid for it at the counter. He had just found it written down that Viktor Krum _did_ in fact, have a habit for er, digging for gold, _especially in public, no less,_ and there was no way he was just leaving the book here. No way, people would need to see the evidence once he told them about this.

Hermione gave him a quizzical look before asking, "Where to now?"

"The broom shop."

She groaned.

THEIR SECOND STOP

"But does this one protect the wood as well?" Draco asked the storekeeper as he was choosing between two kinds of broom polish.

"Just pick one, Malfoy," the Head Girl urged, looking around at the brooms on the walls. Her stupid fear of heights made her nervous, even when she wasn't flying! Even the sight of a broom filled her with some dread.

"Well, this one cleans the wood, but doesn't protect it. This one protects it, but doesn't clean it. And this one does both, but not as well as the others. And this one...well, this one's pretty useless. Which one is it to be then?"

He was staring at all three and biting his lip, looking as if he was a little boy trying to decide which candy to buy from the sweet shop.

After a few moments, he grinned. "Aw, hell, I'll take all of them!"

Hermione merely shook her head. _Typical_.

THEIR THIRD STOP

"What is this grimy place?" Draco asked, disgusted, peering up at the sign that hung over the rundown shop. It read _Comic Wizard_ and had a picture of some very muscled men in tight outfits and capes. He could not for the life of him figure out why they would dress so atrociously.

"The place for our research," Hermione said mysteriously before disappearing inside. Cautiously, he followed her in, only to be astounded by the sight of stacks and stacks of comics piled everywhere in the room.

She was speaking to the store owner and waving her arms. "What do you mean, you have no comics about the X-Men!" he heard.

The young wizard shrugged. "Sorry, miss, but we're a _wizard_ shop and we don't carry a lot of Muggle comics."

Hermione turned a pleading look on him. "Please? Could you just check? It's for a really important project."

The wizard looked as if he was about to send her away before he sighed and went into the storeroom, mumbling something about the unfair use of feminine wiles. When he came out, it was with one torn and grubby comic in his hand.

"This is all we have," he said, before tossing it to her.

Hermione smiled at him radiantly before buying it.

"Who, or _what_ is that?" Draco asked curiously. The man on the cover had metal claws coming out from between each knuckle.

"Wolverine. And the people behind him are the X-Men. This is a perfect start to our project."

Draco snorted. "Those claws would diminish any person's sartorial standards, and he doesn't have much to begin with. How is he supposed to put on his clothes without ripping them to shreds first?" Secretly, he admired the claws, but he would have felt distinctly uncomfortable without insulting a piece of Muggle culture at least once.

Hermione looked at him as if he was being particularly dense. "They're retractable," she said, enunciating each word.

That only caused him to roll his eyes. "Muggles and their love of the most random things."

"Shall we head to The Three Broomsticks?" Hermione said, not wanting to argue at the moment. She was carrying some rather heavy books and wanted to sit down as soon as possible.

"Let's go to the new restaurant that opened a block from here," Draco replied. "I heard it's quite good and besides, it's closer."

Anything to put those books down sooner.

Unfortunately, when they approached the entrance of The Clover's Charm, one of the waitresses came out to greet them with what she thought was bad news.

"Sorry, but we only have one table left, and it's reserved," the redhead stuttered when she saw Draco's stormy face. "Might I recommend The Three Broomsticks?"

Draco leaned forward and discreetly pressed a decent-sized bag of filled with what Hermione assumed was galleons. "Let me ask my question again. Are there any spots left?"

"Er, yes sir!" The waitress looked around worriedly before tucking the bag into a pocket under her apron. "Follow me, sir."

"I can't believe you just bribed her!" Hermione hissed to Draco, horrified at the transaction. "What about that poor person that actually took the time to reserve the table? They probably had a special occasion planned, for them to go to the trouble."

Draco shrugged carelessly. "Then he...or she will have to top my bribe to get it back."

Hermione would have crossed her hands over her chest if she hadn't been carrying her stack of heavy tomes (Draco, being the git he was, never bothered to ask her if she would like some help with them). "I am not sitting at a table that has been stolen from someone else."

Draco threw up his arms in exasperation. "If the bloke shows up looking for his table, tell him the Malfoys will be glad to compensate him for his trouble. A reasonable amount, of course." He smirked at the waitress and sat down with finality, rewarded with a raised eyebrow from Hermione.

She huffed and sat down across from him at the small table. "That still doesn't make things right."

His only response was to throw a menu at her. "Hurry up and choose already."

Hermione held the menu, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Sitting cosily at a table, alone with Malfoy...it felt like a well, date. Needless to say, if Ron saw them here together, he would probably personally murder Malfoy before turning his wrath on her.

"I'll have the mushroom risotto, and please tell them not to add any of the green peppers," she told the waitress politely.

Draco twitched his lips into a charming smile. "What would you recommend?" he asked, leaning forward and speaking in a distinctively intimate tone.

The waitress, whose nametag told Hermione her name was Mia, gulped nervously. The Head Girl pitied her for being on the receiving end of Draco Malfoy's charm. She herself had never experienced it (nor had any wish to), but judging from the stories the other girls told, it definitely was something. Hermione snorted quietly, only to have Draco glare at her.

"Th-the salmon filet, sir."

"Then that's what I'll be having," Draco said confidently, leaning back and flashing her another charming, if dismissive smile.

The waitress hurried away as if there was Fiendfyre on her apron strings.

Hermione sighed, flashing him a disapproving glance. "Did you have to unsettle her like that? The poor girl's probably not going to come back here."

Draco chuckled and smiled at himself in a self-congratulatory manner. "I'll have her number by the end of the night."

"Excuse me, I feel like gagging," Hermione replied sarcastically, heading towards the rest room.

When she came out, refreshed, Hermione ran into a rather large person hurrying in the opposite direction. "Oomph," she wheezed as the air was knocked out of her and staggered back.

When she looked up, ready to apologize, she froze. She was not expecting to see a familiar face, and especially not the face that belonged to the only guy she had ever snogged in her 17 years of life.

"Her-my-own-ninny?" He smiled down at her, his eyes twinkling in surprised pleasure.

"_Viktor?"_

* * *

><p>So...what do you think will happen, with Viktor in the equation? hehe, read on to find out what happened that night. Oh, and reviews are always welcome :)<p> 


	7. Chapter 7

Draco frowned as he contemplated what was taking Hermione so long. He began to wonder if he should start looking for her in case she got lost, but then smothered that sense of chivalry (that no doubt came from one of his ancestors, a knight that had died courageously and selflessly during the Crusades). Malfoys did not feel chivalrous towards mudbloods, even if they were female.

Nevertheless, he turned around and scanned the restaurant, stopping when he spotted her wild chestnut curls next to the window. What he saw next filled him with...some kind of feeling. Something that he definitely did not like.

Illuminated by the street lights, he saw none other than the famous Viktor Krum bend down to gallantly kiss Hermione's hand. The Head Girl was blushing and smiling in a way that made him nauseous.

In fact, scratch the whole part about his feelings. Draco was sure these were not feelings, they were more of an...itch. Yes, it was probably his stomach reacting from the lowly, common, horrible food the restaurant had to offer, some sort of indigestion problem. Draco conveniently forgot that he hadn't eaten anything yet.

Hermione smiled and tugged Viktor by the hand to their table. "Malfoy, you'll never believe it, but Viktor's here to play some games and even train with some of the teams at Hogwarts! He'll be staying here for quite a while."

Great. Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes and began to extend his hand to shake Viktor's when suddenly he shrank back.

"Vat is wrong?" Viktor asked, looking confused.

Draco didn't want to admit to Viktor's face that it was because of his fear that Viktor's hands weren't clean. You know...because of his little habit? So he just smiled stiffly and said, "My hand's sore from carrying so much today."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Yeah, he had really exerted himself carrying a few small jars of broom polish.

"Vell, I better get back," Viktor said reluctantly, turning as if to leave.

"Yes, you better," Draco muttered under his breath.

Hermione shot him a dirty glance before looking up pleadingly at the Quidditch star. "Please, won't you just stay for a few minutes, Vik?"

She was giving him the same look she had given to the wizard at the comic book store, Draco realized darkly. And she had even given him a pet name. Bloody hell.

Viktor smiled hesitantly. "Of course. Anything for my good friend, Her-my-own-ninny!" He accentuated the word 'good', leading Draco to believe there was more between them.

For Merlin's sake, how had she managed to catch his interest? He was a world-famous Quidditch star, with plenty of girls to choose from, and he decided to take a fancy to the bushy haired, muggle-born bookworm? Inconceivable.

Viktor dragged a chair from a nearby table and sat down on Hermione's side of the table. She grinned and nudged him playfully and he laughed. Draco clenched his hands in his lap and tried not to breathe loudly and noticeably like his father always did when he was angry. But oh no, he wasn't angry. Not even a little miffed.

"So, Vik, what have you been doing ever since your last letter to me?" Hermione asked as Viktor finished placing his order.

"Vell, mostly I study and in my free time, play Quidditch. Probably like ." Viktor said, casting Draco a questioning glance.

Draco didn't want to admit he had anything in common with the poor guy, so he remained rudely silent. Hermione shot him a look.

"Draco has a bruised throat, Vik. I don't think he can speak tonight." Damn if Granger hadn't just given him a mock pitying glance. "Unfortunately, a couple of rather large wizards set onto him today when they became annoyed with his prattling."

Viktor looked alarmed. "If this is happening in this area, we must alert the Ministry to settle this problem. These wizards could be dangerous!"

"What Granger didn't tell you was that I incapacitated the two of them," Draco said, sending a smirk to Hermione. "That's right, after they...bruised my throat, I managed to catch them both off guard and pound them unconscious. Without magic. And then, I left them at the Ministry's doorstep." He gave a small cough at the end and rubbed his throat. Not bad for an instantaneous prevarication, but of course Malfoys could lie well. It was in their genes.

Viktor looked impressed and surprised. "I voodn't have expected a little wizard like you be able to take on two big bruisers."

Draco choked on his salmon filet and it was Hermione's turn to smirk at him. "Yes, Vik. One really wonders how he was even able to land a finger on one of them, not to mention two."

Draco opened his mouth to defend himself but suddenly, a pair of small hands slid over his eyes. "Guess who it is," said a familiar and irritating voice from behind him.

He sighed. "Pansy." The word was spoken wearily.

Pansy leaned in to kiss his cheek and without asking, pulled a chair over and plopped next to him. "Waitress! Give me a Caesar salad, ok? Non-fat dressing, and no croutons!" Lowering her voice and glaring at Hermione, she said, "_Some_ of us should be doing the same thing." She cast a disparaging glance at Hermione's risotto and then at Hermione's midsection.

Hermione felt her face heating up. She was perfectly slim and healthy! "Aren't you supposed to be with Blaise and your little Slytherin friends somewhere?"

"Nothing could keep me away from my darling Drakey-Wakey," crooned Pansy, leaning closer to him.

"Malfoy, why don't you tell her about what happened today with the two bruisers?" asked Hermione with a snort.

"Mr. Malfoy has a bruised neck due to them but luckily he managed to win the battle and deposit the two unconscious at the Ministry's doors," recounted Victor.

"You did that today?" Pansy turned to Draco, puzzled.

"Yup. Right before we got here, in fact." Hermione smiled at his increasingly panicked expression.

Pansy suddenly burst into giggles, the high pitched kind that can break glass and pierce eardrums. Everyone in the restaurant turned to glare at her as if to say SHUT UP ALREADY. "You did no such thing, Drakey," she said, happily oblivious to his plight. "I would know, since I was following you all day."

Hermione nearly spat out her drink. "You were _following us_?" She ended up choking and Viktor had to thump her back.

Pansy looked affronted. "He left without me, and I wasn't going to just let him go. But you guys kept on walking so fast that I never caught up."

Even Viktor looked taken aback. "So ven did the incident with the two men occur?"

Draco had to refrain from rolling his eyes at Viktor's vapidness. Seriously, the guy was a decent Quidditch player, but he had no brains whatsoever. Unlike Draco himself.

Once Pansy got her salad, they ate in silence for a while, but under the circumstances, there was no way silence would prevail for the whole time they were at the restaurant.

"Her-my-own-ninny, I don't know if it is too soon to ask, but vood you consider going to the winter ball with me at Hogwarts?" Viktor asked, taking hold of her hand. "I know they are planning on holding one, and I will be free during the holidays."

Pansy turned to Draco. "You _are_ planning to take me, aren't you?" she demanded.

But Draco was oblivious to anything she was saying. He was too busy watching the Head Girl and the Quidditch star together.

Hermione smiled. "It's very kind of you to ask, Viktor. But I don't know if I will be going. I might just stay at the dorm and study."

"You can't," Draco injected. "As the Head Boy and Girl, we have to lead the first dance."

Hermione scrunched up her face. Viktor looked hopeful, so hopeful that after several moments of internal debate, she finally agreed. "Alright, Vik. Just send me a message before the ball so I know where to meet you." She smiled at him and leaned into him affectionately. Viktor happily put his arm around her and settled her against him.

Draco finally managed to tear his eyes from the scene. "Of course I'm taking you," he told Pansy uncomfortably. "You're my girlfriend, after all." He smirked at the other two and gave Pansy a long snog, disregarding any spectators, which included the crestfallen, redheaded waitress, Mia.

Pansy looked radiantly happy although it was hard to tell if it was because she had been confirmed as Draco Malfoy's girlfriend or the snog. Probably a bit of both. Now she cast a smug glance at Hermione as if to say "Too late, I've got him in the bag already."

Hermione returned her look with a disgusted one of her own. She didn't want Draco Malfoy, did Pansy think she was crazy?

Viktor was looking taken back again when Draco had proclaimed her as his girlfriend. Secretly, he had thought that Malfoy had better taste than that, but you could never tell with some guys. Look at the poor bloke on his team, who was going out with a fourth year merely because she had nice hair, even though she required him to buy a piece of jewellery for her every week.

"Oh Merlin, you have to take me dress shopping now, Draco!" squealed Pansy. "And I need some shoes, more mascara, a corsage, a necklace (preferably diamond), a tiara..."

Hermione was disgusted by Pansy's exuberance. Draco could see that, plain as daylight. This little plan of his was backfiring fast and there was no way out. He was stuck taking Pansy...although he could probably sneak out after the first dance and hide somewhere until it was all over...

Unable to take any more, Draco called out for some Firewhiskey. After a few glasses, he was happy again, his troubles gone in a blur of drunkenness.

"Vell, I should probably get going," Viktor said, giving Hermione a good-bye kiss she did not expect and could not avoid. "It was nice seeing you again, Her-my-own-ninny."

"Good-bye, Viktor," Hermione smiled at him.

"Well, I should probably get going too," Pansy said airily, flouncing out the door before Hermione could call out to her. What a great girlfriend, ditching her supposed boyfriend like that when he was drunk.

Hermione looked down at Draco and sighed. There was no way she was going to be able to get him back by herself. With the books to carry, his broom polish and the comic, Hermione was sure her back would break if she even attempted to lift or even drag Malfoy.

"Excuse me," she called out to Mia. "Is there any transportation back to Hogwarts near here?"

Mia had a vengeful look in her eyes. The blond, good-looking bloke had decided to play around with her, and _nobody_did that without getting their just desserts. "I believe so, miss. If you would just follow me..."

!

"Where are we, Mummy," Draco slurred, lifting an arm and squinting at it, trying to make the three arms he saw solidify into one.

He felt wood splinters driving into his skin and clothing. He'd probably care in the morning, but not now.

"We're almost there, Malfoy. Just a couple more blocks to go."

"Ouch!" A hard, large object had fallen on his head.

Hermione chuckled as she lifted the log away from his eyes. The waitress must have been really angry, for her to put them in the wagon of the most erratic driver in Hogsmeade: the woodcutter. Hermione could dodge the logs with ease but Draco could unfortunately only roll from side to side.

When the wagon finally clattered up to the front gates of the school, Hermione thanked the driver and pulled Draco out of the wagon, wincing when she heard his head bang against the wagon wall. Oh well, the bloke probably deserved it anyways.

Somehow making into the dorm and up the stair to his room, Hermione gawked. She had expected his room to be lavishly decorated, with all the expensive furniture he could cram into it, as a way of showing off his pureblooded status. But the room was spartan and utilitarian. There was only a plain bed, desk, chair and wardrobe inside. Of course, the bed was made with silk sheets and the curtains were made of the most expensive Chantilly lace, but with Malfoy, you couldn't ask for too much.

She dragged him over to the bed, ignoring his exclamations of pain when his head bumped into the desk and then the wardrobe corner. Letting him flop drunkenly onto the bed, she stood back. She could just leave him there. He deserved it for being a prat and trying to nauseate her by making out with Pansy.

But she wouldn't stoop to his level. Sighing, she pulled the sheets over him and tucked him in like a little boy.

What she didn't expect was for Draco to open his eyes and stare at her. "Is Krum a good snogger?" he asked suddenly, his hand closing around her wrist in a tight grip.

"What?"

"I said, is he a good snogger?" He rose up on his elbows and looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"I don't see how – " She was cut off when his lips suddenly fell on hers. To her surprise, he wasn't cold like she expected, due to the pallor of his skin. His lips were surprisingly warm and his grip strong when he pulled her closer towards him. And for a second, she allowed herself to fall against him.

Hermione gasped and pulled away when she realized what was happening. She had just been allowing Draco Malfoy to snog her, was she crazy? Draco had flopped down again and his eyes were closed. Was he actually asleep, or was he pretending again?

It seemed to be the latter, because just as soon as she turned to leave she heard a plaintive voice behind her say," Did I snog better than he did?"

Hermione stopped in her tracks. "No," she said, but couldn't stop a smile from surfacing on her face. Although she had no idea why she would be smiling after the events of the night.

"Well, I should," she heard Malfoy continue huffily. "At least I don't pick my nose in public."

And since she had no idea what he was talking about, she left promptly. It was probably best anyways. There was something dangerous lurking in the air when she was around him...probably a reminder of what his father had done during the war. But she didn't think it was that...

!

New developments taking place here! So, what do you think?


	8. Chapter 8

Halloween was fast approaching. It might seem like just a holiday where people can go and get free candy from Muggles, but to the students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it posed an opportunity. An opportunity to hex each other (not seriously, or lethally, most of the time), and get away with only a mild punishment. An opportunity to get back at people that had hexed _you_ the year before.

Which is exactly why, during Transfiguration, Draco was drenched in a cold sweat.

"Alright, class. In the spirit of this holiday, which celebrates witches and wizards to some degree, I have a special class planned," said Professor McGonagall briskly as she handed out plastic Halloween objects to everyone in the class.

"You are going to transform your object into that of your partner's..." Here there as a cheer, as that assignment alone would be very simple. "Ah...not so fast, Mr. Zabini. I haven't finished speaking yet. You are all going to transform your object into that of your partner's...and then make it real. Not plastic, but real."

Everyone in the class let out a collective groan, since that would require complicated spells that would no doubt take up the whole class, and leave no time to socialize. Blaise Zabini's cocky smile gradually faded away.

Hermione sighed. "Alright, what did you get, Malfoy?" she asked, turning to face the blonde next to her.

Only then did she realize that the Head Boy was sweating profusely and his eyes were wide and panicked, as if he had just seen an enemy that only appeared to him. "Helloo...Malfoy!" She gave him a small punch on the arm to get him to notice her.

Ever since last night, when he had snogged her (although unconsciously and drunkenly), she had felt uncomfortable. Yes, he probably didn't know what he was doing, and yes, it almost certainly meant nothing (at least, she hoped so), but she still couldn't get over it. Probably due to the fact that this was the boy that had tortured her and made her life miserable, bloody hell for the last six years.

"Wha...what?" Draco tried to shake his head to clear his mind but his gestures were stiff and wooden, as if he had stayed in the exact same position since the beginning of class. Which he had.

He was reliving the horrible moments when the fake Professor Moony had transformed him into a ferret in a pique and bounced him off the wall. He remembered looking out at the world with beady little eyes and the feeling of hopelessness as he got picked up and bounced off the wall many times. And the fact that everyone in the bloody school knew about it.

Yes, folks. This incident is precisely why Draco Malfoy, the arrogant snob of a Slytherin, was frequently uncomfortable in Transfiguration class. And especially on today of all days.

Hermione ignored the staring, silent Slytherin beside her and reached behind his arm for his Halloween object. She held it up, scrutinizing every feature of the plastic so-called witch and then began casting her spells on her own object, a pumpkin with a grin carved on one side.

It was really too bad for the Head Boy that Professor McGonagall was making rounds to make sure everyone was on task. It was especially unfortunate that everyone else was also pointing and gesturing at his still body, which made the professor turn around and notice that much faster.

She walked towards him until she was right in front of him, and still he did not move. She leaned in closer as if to reprimand him and yet still he sat there like a rock. The professor was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She had always had a stern reputation and to have this boy not reacting to anything she did...her reputation would be in tatters soon.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're looking at me like a foreign Muggle film without captions," she said briskly, waving her hand in front of his face. When Draco's eyes finally cleared, she said, "Get to work, and ten points from Slytherin."

Draco looked rather blankly down on his object. It certainly didn't help that he had a terrible headache due to drinking so much Firewhiskey the night before. Everything was a blur that night, from leaving the restaurant to getting back into his room. (And no, he did not remember snogging Hermione, really).

Hermione looked out of the corner of her eye at him. Really, he looked pathetic just then. She was torn between wanting to help him and whipping out a Muggle video camera so she could lord this over him for the rest of the year. She then forcefully cleared her head of any uncharacteristically mean thoughts she might have had. You really can't blame her for feeling a little grouchy after staying up so late the night before because she was hauling Malfoy back to his room.

"Here, Malfoy. McGonagall wants us to transform our objects into that of our partners' and then make it real. Mine was a pumpkin with a grin and two teeth sticking out of the top."

Draco glared at her. It seems he has regained his senses. "Of course I know, I'm not deaf, Mudblood," he snapped peevishly.

Hermione was itching to hex him, considering the time of the year, but since it was class time, she refrained from doing so. She watched him perform the spells, only turning away when he asked her what she was looking at, and some rubbish about her being secretly in love with him.

Pfft. As if.

!

Draco was tired of feeling on the edge all the time. First there was that whole saving Granger when she tumbled off the roof business, and then that strange feeling- no, itch!- that he had gotten when he saw her with Krum. And then, of course, there was the stress of knowing Halloween was coming and that Blaise was sure to hex him back (he had hexed his best mate into a swamp monster during Magical Creatures class last year. Hagrid had promptly leapt on Blaise, tackling him painfully, and then exhibited him to the entire class. Oh, and then the students got to poke and prod at him and Draco made sure he stepped on Blaise's foot).

See, _that_ was the kind of thing he needed to do more often. He was getting soft, that's what. He needed to do something so that he could return to his old self in record time, and Halloween was the perfect opportunity. Let's see, who should he do this to?

Pansy would never let him hear the end of it and he'd have to listen to her nagging for the year.

Blaise would probably turn him into a ferret again (shudder shudder).

Picking on Gryffindor first years was a valid option, however, he had bored of their tears and snot and whining. And being Head Boy, while he didn't want to admit it, meant more responsibility.

He thought extensively on the topic for several more minutes before arriving at the perfect candidate: Granger! Being stuck with her for the whole year was going to be dull if he didn't have something to rub in her face. And he knew a secret fear of hers: snakes. He had discovered that very useful tidbit when during a Magical Creatures class, he had witnessed her on numerous occasions using sharp, pointy sticks to prod the piteous snakes away from her.

It was also convenient that his family had an affinity with serpentine creatures ever since the medieval ages, when one of his ancestors, King Serilus, saved a magical snake from being killed by a rather enthusiastic maid and her chamber pot.

Now if he could just manage to somehow obtain and hide a snake in his room...

!

It had finally arrived. That day that was dreaded by some, and eagerly anticipated by others. Most of the witches and wizards at Hogwarts found the holiday extremely ironic, since they did not have to dress up at all to be in the Halloween spirit.

Draco was one of the wizards that was anticipating this day, despite Blaise's determination to get back at him. So eager for it, that at precisely 2:37 A.M. on Halloween, he had already snuck into the Head Girl's room, snake in hand.

It hadn't been easy, procuring that snake. He had to buy it off an extremely strange boy in fifth year, Garfus Toordle, for five Galleons. But it was worth it. He smiled, envisioning the look of horror he would see on Granger's face.

Sneaking inside, he tiptoed across the wooden floor and to her bedside. She had fallen asleep curled up to her left and it looked like she was cold under her thin blanket. He suddenly had an urge to spread his cloak over it, so that she would be warm, but he immediately stifled that thought.

In his mind, this just went to show how soft was he was becoming because of her. That was unacceptable. And the fact that he thought she looked serene and beautiful in her sleep, well, that was unacceptable as well.

This was the only way to get back to being himself. Get Granger out of his mind, get everything about her out of his mind. Without reconsidering anything, he threw the snake, aiming precisely for her face.

A second later, a shout came from the general vicinity of the Head Girl and the snake was flung off the bed and onto the floor. She had also taken out her wand from underneath her pillow (ever since Draco snuck into her room the first time, she never took chances) and immediately turned it into a pillow shaped like a duck.

However, Draco never witnessed this scene which would have delighted him for several days.

What most people did not know about him (and especially not Gryffindors!) was that he was deathly afraid of caterpillars. They were so fat, so fuzzy, so...ugggghhh. And if they crawled on you, there was a strange tickling sensation, and also a prickly one and...yeah, you get the point.

His plan would have gone perfectly smoothly if only that crawling, creeping...monstrosity hadn't appeared. The orange and black caterpillar moved slowly but determinedly across the floor towards him, without knowing what internal havoc it was causing.

Draco had frozen in place, staring in panic at the...thing that was slowly advancing on him. He was tempted to run, but someone had told him somewhere that when you ran, they jumped on you or something. Whether this was true or not, he was not willing to take the risk.

"Tsk. Tsk. Malfoy is scared of these cute little caterpillars?" Hermione smirked. She had crawled to the foot of the bed to watch this spectacle. She couldn't be more entertained than if Lavendar Brown had swore off blokes forever.

"Shut up, Granger. Get it out," he managed to force out. It was perilously close to his big toe now and it seemed disgruntled at the obstacle in its path.

"This is too much fun, Malfoy. I think I'll just watch for now." You couldn't blame the girl for feeling vindictive.

At that moment, the caterpillar decided the toe was good enough for a path and crawled onto it. Draco screamed and began kicking his leg while simultaneously reaching for his wand. This resulted in a sort of wild, crazy dance that the Head Girl was delighted to have witnessed. He had only managed to grasp his wand when the caterpillar flew off his toe and out the window.

Hermione gasped and ran to the window. She quickly transformed it into a butterfly before it fell to its death so that it would not tumble several stories to the thorny rosebushes outside her window.

When she came back, Draco was sitting on the ground, clearly out of breath.

"Your little plan backfired, by the way," she said casually as she picked up the duck shaped pillow and hugged it to her chest.

Draco seethed. He _would_ get back at her for this (yes, he is disregarding the fact that she had nothing to do with the caterpillar).

"You better not tell anyone about this, Granger. Everyone already knows that you're a little, timid bookworm so they'll believe every word I say. However, nobody will ever believe that I'm scared of those little...things. So if you know what's good for you, you'll keep your mouth shut."

With that, the Head Boy picked himself up, dusted himself off with as much dignity as the occasion allowed and proceeded to walk out of the room as if he was leaving the presence of royalty. Or someone that knew a dirty secret of his.

!

"Blaise, you do not want to do this."

"Yes, I do. You hexed me last year, now it's my turn. Now turn around and face it like a man."

"A proper man would not allow himself to be hexed."

"Yes, but you're not allowing me, you're about to be hexed against your will. So come on and turn around."

"How about a little deal?" You could almost see the gears frantically turning in Draco's head.

"What?"

"Information. About that Mudblood, Granger. You know, the one that warned Sally whats-her-name that you were going to hex her."

"What about her?"

"Put down your wand first."

The Slytherin looked as if he was going to object for a moment before he reluctantly lowered his wand.

Draco let out a slow breath, relieved but still cautious. "But you can't tell anyone."

"Uh huh."

"I'm serious, Blaise. NOBODY. If she finds out, I'm toast."

"Why?"

"Swear you won't tell."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

"I swear."

Draco shot him a look.

"What? You want me to make a blood oath or something? Just get on with the bloody story before you get hexed."

Draco sighed before recounting the entire story of the night's encounter with Blaise, conveniently leaving out the part about himself.

"Whoa, nice! Did she hex you when she woke up to find you there?"

"Uh, no. I got away before she could."

"Awesome! I can't wait to tell Pansy and Millicent."

"Wait!" Draco grabbed at his arm, but it was too late. After all, they were in the Great Hall eating supper and Blaise was seating right in between both girls.

"Great," he muttered. He could only hope that this never got to Granger's ears.

However, that hope was dashed seconds after it was born. It was extremely foolish to hope that with Pansy Parkinson, the renowned gossipmonger at the table.

"WHAT?" Everyone the in the Great Hall turned to look at her.

Seeing that she had everyone's attention already, Pansy decided to proceed despite the horrified look on Draco's face.

"HERMIONE GRANGER IS SCARED OF SNAKIES? AWWWW...THAT'S TOO BAD... BECAUSE I ALWAYS HAVE MORE IF YOU WANT THEM!"

A gasp rose up from everyone and all eyes were redirected to Hermione to see what she would do.

Mina Tarot, who, turns out, was Rita Skeeter's neice, was furiously copying down every word.

Hermione's face turned pink in embarrassment but that didn't stop her from standing up at her table and turning to face Pansy.

Draco groaned. He might as well leave the country and live in a cave. There were no guarantees that not everyone would discount her side of the story as pathetic lies. Gryffindorks tended to band together, and some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were Gryffindor sympathizers. Hogwarts was becoming more and more like the court of Catherine de Medici every day. Now, if Draco had a little more tact, like Machiavelli...

Hermione smiled a slow, dangerous smile. "I see Draco forgot to tell you about his little er, skirmish with the caterpillar himself."

"What skirmish?" Pansy snapped, angry that some of the drama had faded away.

"Oh, nothing really. It's just when he was sneaking out of my room to run away like a _coward_, he was confronted by the scariest, most terrifying monster ever encountered...a caterpillar!"

A large portion of the Gryffindors burst into hysterics and laughter.

Some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws chuckled.

The Slytherins all turned to look at him silently. Some wore expressions of disbelief, others were turning purple from holding in their laughter.

"What?" He laughed nervously. "You don't actually believe her...do you?"

Everyone continued staring at him in silence for some more moments until Blaise broke the silence. "No, the little Mudblood's probably just sore from the humiliation. Psh, if you were scared of caterpillars, I'd have hexed you into one years ago."

This seemed to ease any doubts the Slytherins might have harboured. But Draco could only chuckle nervously.

And meanwhile all this was happening, Mina Tarot was writing as if her life depended on it. This would be her main story. This had all the juicy bits of scandal and betrayal that made a good news story tied into it. This would get her a job on a newspaper like her aunt and make her known to the Wizarding community.

Draco and Hermione wouldn't know what hit them in the face until they were caught and twisted into her web of carefully manufactured half-lies.

* * *

><p>Let's just say that if Mina is anything like her aunt, Draco and Hermione are in a LOT of trouble.<p> 


End file.
